


All hope abandon, ye who enter here

by theclosestthingtofamily



Category: Supernatural
Genre: oh and also angst!, so since it's about Dean's time in Hell there is torture involved, the first fanfic I'm uploading but I wrote it quite some time ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-12 00:39:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclosestthingtofamily/pseuds/theclosestthingtofamily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My heart was racing. I saw him walking up to me. I knew what would happen. Terror had taken its hold of me and I could already feel the pain coming my way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All hope abandon, ye who enter here

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this two years ago but I've decided not to make any changes and just upload it!

My heart was racing.   
I saw him walking up to me. I knew what would happen. Terror had taken its hold of me and I could already feel the pain coming my way. 

As if to emphasize the dread my eyes were drawn to what he was holding in his right hand. The blade. 

I knew the blades form by heart. I knew the feeling of having it carve you to pieces. I knew how it felt to have it separating your flesh from your bones, while playing with exposed muscles. I knew the shrieking sound of my own scream, the scream that always brought a horrible smile to my torturers face.   
I knew it was useless but I couldn't help it. I started to pull at the massive chains that were hooked into my shoulder, feet, stomach, arms...   
Blood started to trickle down my shirt from the wound in my shoulder, but I didn't even acknowledge it. It was like a mosquito bite if you compared it to what was coming. 

Alastair was in front of me now, his gaze pierced into mine, and then he grinned. His mouth stretched all the way up to his ears. I could feel his breath against my face and it smelled rotten, like death.   
I braced myself. 

“Soooo Dean, what have you been up to?”   
Aw hell, (the irony. Hell makes your humor disappear in a second and leaves you with bad jokes and friggin' limericks!) he wanted to smalltalk.   
“Oh, you know just hanging here”, I answered him through clenched teeth.   
“Ha-ha! Why were you a hunter? You should have gone for comedian!”   
“I had a crappy guidance counselor.”   
“I think I should have been great in the television business.” Alastair continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “You know, like a host for a quiz show”, he twisted his voice to sound more like an anchorman. “Aaaaand the first question goes 'Is Dean Winchester ever going to get his butt off that rack and help me torture souls?!' He's got ten seconds to answer!” 

Alastair looked at me expectantly, as if today might be the day I changed my mind. He always looked at me this way after asking the question and when I said no he always feigned sadness.  
I tried to keep my game-face on and seem composed but the hate I felt inside me seeped through anyway. 

“I'm sorry but I guess you're gonna have to work overtime without a partner at 'Torture souls Ltd'. I just hope that you'll get done in time to make dinner for your bitches.”   
I could see his grin getting even wider. It looked like it was going to split his face in half. Still, there was a glint of something in his eyes. Anger? It didn’t matter. I had made his mask slip just a little and that was enough for me.

“Dean, Dean, Dean... You know, I appreciate your concern, but oh, don't you worry. I've got a fantastic babysitter.”   
I didn't see it coming. How could I have? I was too busy gloating over the fact that I could make jokes, even in hell. No matter how many times I felt it, it didn't lessen the shock, the cold and the agonizing pain that shot through me as the blade sliced into me. 

Because it was so unexpected the pain was sharper and more intense. I made a sound at the back of my throat and then a string of curses came tumbling out.  
“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…” Even if Alastair pulled the blade out of my body within seconds, it left a burning pain in the side of my stomach, where my liver was. The wound kept burning, as if someone was holding red-hot iron against it. The heat of the wound was pulsating through my body. Then he got to work. He tried talking to me but I didn't hold up my end of the conversation. The only sounds I made were more screams. He ran the blade along my upper arm and left a burning trail of blood after it. Soon enough it felt as if my whole body was on fire.

By the time Alastair went from cutting to operating my voice was already hoarse and I was sweating like a pig. This was his favorite part of torturing and he was always very enthusiastic. I knew his routines and as always, he started with the stomach. The line he drew across it was accompanied by more screaming from my side. 

When he started poking around in there tears were running freely down my face and mixing with the sweat already there. I was getting dizzy and nauseous, and black spots were disturbing my eyesight.   
I felt that I was drifting further and further away. The only thing I could hear was my scream that was getting lower and lower each second. I could hear that Alastair was singing as he started to play with the exposed muscles in my right arm.   
“How long can he hold, how long can he hold?” Alastair’s singsong voice got to me right before the darkness swallowed me. 

I greeted the dark like an old friend. It was the only thing I had to hold on to, that I would at some point end up here, where pain didn’t exist. Neither did time and I closed my eyes to blink. When I opened them I was whole again.


End file.
